Prompt / Lyrics
[Intro] Sip slow Clock tick, heart cold Same clothes New bankroll (yeah) [Verse 1] Used to split plates, three ways Now it’s six chains, three safes Mama bills paid, that’s grace I don’t talk pain, it’s in my face Rain in the ceiling bucket Couch by the door, had to tuck it Landlord callin’, I duck it Now my lawyer talk numbers in public (woo) I remember loose change, pocket lint Now it’s ten bands stuffed in the money clip They ain’t see the long nights, nails on the brick Phone on one percent, still tryna make it flip [Chorus] I make money like Johnny Dang Turn my scars into shiny things Took that hurt, turned it all to rings Pray I never have to lose this flame I make money like Johnny Dang From the mud to the diamond chain If I fall, I’ma climb again If I fall, I’ma climb again (climb again) [Verse 2] Used to ride bus, day pass Now I slide through, face pass Same ones laughed in the past Now they hit phone, I let it pass Concrete floor, pallet as a bed Ramen for the week, hot sauce on the bread Now chef bring plates I can’t even say Tip a whole shift, then I walk away (yeah) No handouts, had to bleed for it Signed my name in the heat for it Every L got a seed in it Plant that pain, grow green from it [Chorus] I make money like Johnny Dang Turn my scars into shiny things Took that hurt, turned it all to rings Pray I never have to lose this flame I make money like Johnny Dang From the mud to the diamond chain If I fall, I’ma climb again If I fall, I’ma climb again (climb again) [Bridge] Slow grind, but it came, though (came, though) Same heart, different payroll (payroll) Still remember nights on the same floor So I stack ’til the safe won’t stay closed (yeah) [Chorus] I make money like Johnny Dang Turn my scars into shiny things Took that hurt, turned it all to rings Pray I never have to lose this flame I make money like Johnny Dang From the mud to the diamond chain If I fall, I’ma climb again If I fall, I’ma climb again (climb again)
Tags
rap, Slowed, chopped Southern rap, pitched-down ad-libs but regular-lead male vocal. Swung half-time drums, woozy reversed keys, sub-heavy bass that blooms and ducks. Verses ride the pocket, space between lines, hook explodes with stacked chants on the title phrase. Occasional vinyl stop FX and tape warps accent key flex lines, keeping it grimy but luxurious., deep, tone
Duration
3:05
Instrumental
No
Created
4/14/2026